


White Flag

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [96]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Boys In Love, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Short & Sweet, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Tony hasn't been sleeping and Stephen misses his boyfriend.





	White Flag

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and sweet to celebrate one successful exam and one decent essay complete :)

   “Sir, I must inform you that it is now six-thirty am.”

   Tony looked up blearily at Friday’s announcement, head tilting in confusion as he peered at the small windows dotting his workshop. He sighed at the sunlight just beginning to stream in, slumping over his worktable, almost knocking off his latest project. It wouldn’t matter, it was a piece of shit anyway.

   He wiped at his eyes, trying to dislodge the feeling of them drooping with exhaustion. Another all nighter, Stephen was going to be pissed, he could practically feel the disappointment already. Tony pursed his lips, considering, “Friday? Stephen wouldn’t happen to still be in bed, would he?”

   “He’s just stepping out of the shower boss,” he couldn’t miss her disapproval. He’d thought maybe he could slip into bed and his lover could be non the wiser, ignoring the fact that there was no way Stephen would be fooled.

   There was nothing for it then.

   With a weary huff, he got to his feet, swaying a bit and wincing as he was attacked simultaneously with a headache and wave of dizziness, yeah that wasn’t good. He should probably go straight to bed, but Tony was a glutton for punishment and as he made his way to the top of the stairs, he found himself making a beeline for the kitchen.

   He eyed the coffee, tempted to give himself a few more hours, but the sound of Stephen’s footsteps immediately made him banish the thought. Instead he went about getting his lover’s tea ready, a white flag for the inevitable, or so he hoped.

   Even so, he movements felt lethargic, his eyelids heavy, and his mind just hazy enough to know he would crash for a solid ten hours as soon as Stephen headed back to the Sanctuary and for once he was craving the softness and warmth of his bed.

   The footsteps got closer and Tony pulled a mug out of the cupboard for Stephen’s tea before turning his back to it and waiting, casual as can be and decidedly trying to look not tired when his lover came in.

   As always, the man was breathtaking. His hair was still glistening from the shower, his robes tied around him and the Cloak hovering nearby and clearly impatient. Unfortunately, the lovely image was marred up the stoic expression, the way those mesmerizing eyes simply glanced across him before looking away. He wasn’t happy and Tony fucking hated that it was his own fault.

   “Good morning, I made you tea.”

  “Thank you,” Stephen said tightly, reaching past him to retrieve another cup and he felt his stomach twist and his mind become a tad sharper.

   He watched the man fill it with water from the tap, then turn abruptly toward their medicine cabinet. Tony watched on guiltily as Stephen took out the small pill bottle and emptied it of two tablets with practiced ease before setting both the water and the pills in front of Tony on the counter.

   In silence, Tony handed Stephen his tea, and under that watchful gaze, downed the offered relief. Somehow it was even worse that Stephen still took care of him when he was pissed, no matter what he had done.

   Tony found himself staring down at the countertop, hands braced on the smooth surface, “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

   “Don’t.”

   Tony grimaced, glanced up at the man who was staring into his cup, felt the urge to fix this. He’d do just about anything, happily go to his knees and beg his forgiveness for doing this over and over again, “listen, how about tonight I take us out to-”

   Stephen sighed, “stop Tony, just stop.”

   He winced; this was worse then he thought. Tony hadn’t been sleeping lately, old nightmares coming out to play and wreaking havoc on his mind and he found himself seeking solace in his workshop all night. Then, when morning came, he’d find himself passed out in his bed and Tony realized with a suddenly startling clarity that he hadn’t seen Stephen properly, hadn’t had a conversation longer then a few minutes, in nearly a week.

   Swallowing thickly, “then what do you want me to say?”

   Stephen set his cup down, tea untouched, and Tony didn’t miss the way his hands were shaking worse then usual, “I want you to stop apologizing when you don’t mean it. I want you to stop making promises you won’t keep.”

   Tony shook his head, protest on the tip of his tongue, but Stephen’s glare stopped him.

   “Last time you wanted to take me out to make up for it you passed out and didn’t wake up on time. You left me sitting there for twenty minutes.”

   “I’m sorry,” Tony found himself saying again. “It’s the nightmares, I can’t-”

   “I know,” Stephen interrupted and for the first time the stoicism cracked, something soft and sad beneath it. “I know Tony.”

   “What do I do?” he couldn’t help the desperation that slipped into his tone.

   Tony didn’t know why he always let it get this bad, every god damn time. He knew the answer, it was always the same, but it wasn’t until Stephen was standing in front of him, lonely and stressed that it ever seemed to click in his head how bad it got.

   It had been nearly six days of this.

   He wanted to sleep normally and wake up with his boyfriend. He wanted to have breakfast with him that wasn’t filled with tension and dinners where he could stay awake for longer then five minutes. He wanted to care, and he didn’t want to be _tired_ anymore.

   Thing was, as Stephen rounded the corner and tugged him into a hard hug, as bad as it got, he knew Stephen understood. He wasn’t the only one with a less then stellar sleep schedule at times, though the man had always been better at handling it. Stephen knew what it felt like to start running from nightmares then just keep running because you don’t know how to stop. He understood what it was like to be terrified of closing your eyes.

   “Try,” Stephen murmured into his ear.

   For the first time all week Tony’s instinct wasn’t to brush him off or grimace or get angry. No, instead he remembered all he had learned to manage it. The sleeping pills, the occasional therapist, the meditation sessions with Stephen, the powernaps.

   That was just it. As much as Tony hated it, hated the process, it was the trying that was always the hardest. But standing in Stephen’s arms, inhaling his scent and remembering what it was like to be held, trying always seemed a bit easier.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos mean the world to me! 
> 
> We're nearly at 100!!!


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